


Twenty Questions

by mtac_archivist



Category: NCIS
Genre: Humor, M/M, Not Episode Related, Not a Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-23
Updated: 2006-08-23
Packaged: 2019-03-02 05:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13311783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtac_archivist/pseuds/mtac_archivist
Summary: Tony dug in for some more pudding and considered. "Yeah," he said, slowly. "I think it might squirm under the right circumstances."





	Twenty Questions

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Jessi, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [ MTAC](https://fanlore.org/wiki/MTAC), an archive of NCIS fanfiction which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after August 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator (and this work is still attached to the archivist account), please contact me using the e-mail address on [ the MTAC collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/mtac/profile)

"Is it bigger than a sofa?"

"No."

"Can you pet it?"

"Not if you want to live. That's eighteen, McGee." DiNozzo tore the foil top off a pudding cup, licked the underside carefully, then used his index finger to spoon out the butterscotch goodness. "It's after midnight. Where the hell _is_ this guy?"

"Smaller than a sofa, and dangerous to pet…" McGee's frown of concentration deepened. He rubbed a spot over his right temple. His knowledge of physiology was limited, but it seemed to him that rubbing that spot increased the blood flow to the important parts of his head. "Does it squirm?"

"Does it _squirm_?" Tony grinned. "Does it squirm? Uhh…I'd have to say that I don't know."

"It has to be a yes or no answer, Tony. Those are the rules."

"But if I don't know, I don't _know_ , McGee." DiNozzo cut his eyes across the street. No movement near the El Dorado pimpmobile. Traffic had trickled down to nothing, and only a few lights showed in the windows of the apartment block. "And I don't. Know." He smiled to himself. "I definitely don't know if it squirms."

"Do you think it _might_ squirm?"

Tony dug in for some more pudding and considered. "Yeah," he said, slowly. "I think it might squirm under the right circumstances." He smiled and sucked the butterscotch off his finger. "That's twenty! You lose, Probie. I knew you'd never guess."

"But that wasn't my last question!" McGee glanced in the rearview mirror as a figure approached on the sidewalk--not their guy; too short. He turned back to Tony. "That was an amplification of question 19. You didn't answer it properly, so I get one more shot."

"Well, if you insist. But _Twenty Questions_? Not just a clever name. Man, you get testy when you're up past your bedtime." DiNozzo said absently, squinting into his side mirror at another approaching figure.

McGee ground his back teeth a little. That also helped him think. "It's an animal, lives in the city, likes the water, is considered a nuisance by some people…" he muttered and closed his eyes. "And it 'might' squirm. 'Under the right circumstances'…" An elbow to the ribs put an end to his meditation. 

"Move, Probie!" Tony hissed. "It's him!" 

As DiNozzo eased out of the car, he motioned to McGee to circle around behind their quarry. 

"Petty Officer Graves!" McGee called out, his voice only cracking a little. He'd been working on that.

The young man looked around, then turned to run when he saw McGee's badge. The muzzle of Tony's Glock, eighteen inches from Graves' forehead, made him think that surrender might be the better option. 

***

DiNozzo rubbed a hand across his eyes and clicked the mouse to shut down his computer. It had been a long night. He rested his chin on his hand and looked over at Gibbs, still at his desk, reading glasses halfway down his nose as he paged through the arrest report Tony had just written. 

When McGee came back from the lock-up, Tony was still sitting there, too tired to move. McGee stopped in front of his own desk and watched Tony watching Gibbs.

"Graves all tucked in, McGee?" Gibbs peered over his glasses. 

"Yeah, boss. The MPs will be here for him in a few hours."

"You might as well go on home. It's late…well, early."

McGee slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed for the elevator. He wanted to get out of there before Gibbs changed his mind. "’Night, boss."

"DiNozzo, you take off too," He fingered the arrest report. "Good job on this."

Tony hesitated for a moment, then grabbed his jacket. "Thanks, boss."

In the elevator, McGee looked at him and stifled a grin. 

"What?" Tony pressed the button for the garage level. 

"Nothing." McGee continued to beam at DiNozzo.

" _What_?"

"I figured it out."

Tony yawned elaborately, "What did you figure out, McGee?"

"We never finished our game, but I know the answer."

"Sure you do, Probie."

"I just have _one_ more question for you." The elevator doors slid open on the ground floor and McGee stepped out. 

"Will you let me know when you find out if Gibbs squirms?"


End file.
